Before It's Too Late
by stisaac
Summary: Stiles stops by the McCall house for an important talk with Isaac


**Tomorrow is my dear friend Sam's birthday and she loves Stiles and Isaac's relationship so I wanted to write her something. It's a tad depressing because it's based off of the idea that Stiles is actually sick and being possessed by the Nogitsune prevented him for being healed by the bite. So in reality there's nothing Scott can do. I'd like to make this into a short series of one shots but my schedule has unfortunately been a little too tight for me to write as much as I'd like to. Perhaps later, but for now I wanted to have something done on time for Sam's birthday and here it is. **

Isaac hears him at the front door talking to Melissa. He tries not to listen in because he knows it's rude and he knows he'll probably regret it in the end, but he can't help himself.

"Scott isn't here, sweetie."

"I know. He's on a date with Kira, right? Bowling?" A soft, breathy chuckle. The one he always does when he makes a mistake and then tries to laugh it off. "Wait, no. He's terrible at bowling. A movie. They went to a movie. He told me."

Isaac hears her tell Stiles that yes, Scott and Kira went to the movies even though they actually went mini golfing. She doesn't have the heart to point out his mistake and Isaac doesn't blame her. Last week when he stumbled over his own name, Isaac pretended not to notice. Some things they can afford to ignore.

"Cool, well, I'm here to see Isaac anyway. He's home, isn't he?"

Isaac jerks back in surprise. Stiles? Here to see him? He can't imagine why. They're friends now. Close friends even. But they're never together without Scott. When Stiles comes over, it's to see Scott and not Isaac. So why is tonight any different?

He hears Stiles coming up the stairs and hurries to open the door just in case the other teen forgets his bedroom is again. "Stiles?" he says, pasting a carefully rehearsed smile on his face and curling his shaking hands into tight fists. "What's up, dude?"

Stiles grins back at him but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He looks serious. "Hey, Isaac," he says softly. "Can I talk to you about something?"

An uneasy knot ties up Isaac's stomach but he nods and steps aside. "Yeah, of course. Come in."

"Thanks." Stiles walks in and plops down on Isaac's bed with a heavy sigh. He looks tired and upset.

Isaac sits down next to him and after a brief hesitation, briefly touches his shoulder. He can already feel the tension coming off of him in waves, but he hopes that the contact might help. "Is everything okay, Stiles?"

A snort of laughter escapes Stiles and he rolls his eyes. "Aside from the fact that I'm losing my mind? Yeah, everything's just great." He sees the poorly concealed hurt in Isaac's eyes and shakes his head, muttering, "Sorry, that was dumb."

But it was Isaac who was dumb asking him the question in the first place and he tells him so. "I meant just in general," he tries to explain. "You look like you're upset. More than usual, I mean."

He's floundering but Stiles comes to his rescue. "I get it," he says with a nod. "It's okay, Isaac. It's been kind of a rough day. My dad took the Jeep away."

Isaac doesn't know what to say. Stiles loves his jeep but they all knew it was only a matter of time. Yet, it's not Stiles' exact announcement that makes him feel sick to his stomach. It's the fact that Mr. Stilinski took the jeep away over a week ago.

"I'll get used to it I guess," Stiles shrugs. "And it's obviously safer. God forbid I run someone over when I'm out wandering around."

"Right." Isaac closes his eyes briefly to collect himself. This is one of those times where it's better if he just goes along with Stiles' version. "I'm sorry, Stiles."

"Anyway," Stiles says abruptly. "that's not what I came here to talk to you about. I needed to talk to you alone. Without Scott being here."

Taken aback, Isaac just nods. "Okay?" he prompts. "What's on your mind?"

Stiles seems even jumpier and more agitated than usual. He's fidgeting with his hands and he won't meet Isaac's gaze. He reaches up and wipes at his eyes before finally speaking in a slow, halting whisper. "So," he begins. "I need to ask you a favor, Isaac."

"Anything," Isaac says instantly. He means it too. And not just because Stiles is sick. He looks down at Stiles' hands and lays a hand over top both of them. The shaking stops and Stiles gives him a grateful smile. Isaac tries to smile back but it's like his face is frozen. "Anything," he repeats, not as loudly as before.

To his alarm, Stiles' eyes are filling rapidly with tears. He tries to blink them away but several escape and begin to trickle down his pale face. "Isaac," he says, voice breaking. "I don't- I don't know how long I'm going to be around-"

Without meaning to, Isaac tightens his grip on Stiles' hand until he winces. Muttering a hasty apology, Isaac rushes on before Stiles can say anything else. "Stiles, don't talk like that, buddy. You're-"

"Dying, Isaac." Stiles says with finality in his voice. "Believe me, I don't want to talk like this but I have to. I have to ask you this before I'm too far gone. Did you know I had to ask my dad to tie my shoes tonight? Right before he dropped me off because I can't go anywhere by myself?"

Isaac doesn't know what to say. He wants to cry. He finds himself staring at Stiles' shoes, noticeably laced with a lot more care and attention than if he did tie them himself. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his breathing. Tears swim in his vision and he blinks them away before Stiles can see. He's crying over a pair of shoes for God's sake.

"I couldn't remember how to tie my own shoes today, Isaac." Stiles says with a finality in his voice that tugs at Isaac's already breaking heart. "I'm so scared that tomorrow I'm going to wake up and not remember who certain people are. Like you or Lydia or. . " he trails off, leaving the unspoken names hanging in the silence. Isaac hears them just as clearly as if they were spoken after all though. "My dad or Scott."

"So that's why," Stiles takes a huge breath and turns to face Isaac straight on. "I came to you tonight." A quick grin lifts up one corner of his mouth and he looks so proud of himself. "Believe it or not, I actually planned this whole thing out. Scott going out with Kira, I mean. I called her and asked if she could distract him for a couple of hours."

That's why Scott wasn't home or at the Stilinski house. He and Stiles were inseparable before his diagnosis, now it's hardly uncommon to have Stiles complaining about him sleeping at the foot of his bed.

"I don't mind him being with me as much as he is," Stiles confesses now as if he's reading Isaac's mind. "But in a selfish way. I want him to go do other things and be with other people for his sake. I hate that he has to deal with all this crap."

"It's you, Stiles," Isaac says, upset by the implication that Stiles thinks he's just a waste of everyone's time. "Scott would rather be with you whether you're sick or healthy."

Another fleeting smile. "In sickness and in health. Til death do us part." Stiles bites down hard on his lip and wipes furiously at his eyes. "And that's actually what I'm kind of here for, Isaac."

Isaac isn't sure he wants to hear the exact reason Stiles is over right now. "You mean we haven't even gotten to the hard part yet?" He tries to joke but his laugh sounds more like a strangled sob and he turns away from Stiles to get control of himself.

Stiles is quiet for almost a full minute and Isaac is terrified that he's blown it and hurt the other boy's feelings. But he can't open his mouth because he knows that as soon as he does, he's going to just lose it. He can't cry in front of Stiles. He's already trying to be so brave for them that the least they can do is do the same.

Then Stiles takes one of his hands and holds it so tightly that Isaac winces in pain. "Look at me," he says quietly, pleadingly. His voice is filled with pain and Isaac yearns to be able to take at least some of it away. What good are his stupid supernatural powers if he can only take away what is physical? Why can't he take away fear and hurt and-

"I need you to promise something for me."

Isaac looks at Stiles, not even bothering to stop the tears that are starting to slide down his cheeks. "Anything," he says right away. He doesn't care what Stiles says next. There's no way he can refuse him.

"I need you to take care of Scott for me."

He doesn't really know what he was expecting Stiles to say. Just not that. Not something so incredibly loaded with importance. Not Scott. "Stiles," he whispers. "I don't know if I can do that." He genuinely doesn't know. This is so much bigger than he ever imagined.

"Of course you can," Stiles says full of unshakable confidence. "He's just going to need someone to be there for him. Someone to stay by his side. And I know you're that person, Isaac. It's not going to be easy, but you're strong enough. You've. . . you've been through so much and you care about Scott. You know how amazing he is."

Isaac is shaking his head, a pain so powerful welling up in his chest and making it difficult to breathe. "Stiles," he whispers. "I-"

"You can do it, Isaac." Stiles has such faith in him. It's unfair. "He's just gonna need someone to be there for him. He'll try to take care of everyone else but he's going to need someone too. He's too selfless sometimes. And don't let him mope because he does that too. Keep him busy. Keep him going. Can you do that, Isaac? For me?"

Unable to speak, Isaac nods and then drags Stiles into a close embrace. He feels the teen come apart in his arms and start to shake with sobs and clings to him desperate to take the pain away. Desperate to take everything away. If he could trade places with Stiles, he'd do so in a heartbeat. He's so afraid that when they lose him, they'll lose Scott as well.

"I promise," he whispers into Stiles' ear, wishing there was something more he could say. "I promise. He'll be okay, Stiles." Even as he says it though, there's a question that repeats itself over and over again in his mind: How? How will Scott be okay without Stiles?

"Do you think it's selfish of me?" Stiles asks when he stops shaking so much. "I mean that I'm asking you to take care of him? Because if I were Scott then and he were me then I would need someone. I just don't know if-"

"You don't know if he feels the same way about you," Isaac finishes, his heart absolutely shattering. How could Stiles even begin to doubt that Scott might struggle after losing him? "Stiles. . ." he searches the other teen's eyes, trying to see just how it could be possible. "You don't know how much you mean to him, do you." It's a statement, not a question.

"Scott is naturally protective over everyone," Stiles tries to explain. "His heart is too big. He'd be hurt if-"

"It's not just anyone," Isaac interrupts. "it's you. You're his best friend. His brother." He stops because he doesn't want to upset Stiles further by saying what's on his mind. It'll destroy him. It's already destroying him. He almost wants to shake Stiles until he gets it.

Stiles looks like he's reading his mind again. "I know that," he says softly; sadly. "Sometimes I wish it wasn't true though. I don't think that I'm-"

"Don't." Isaac feels bad for interrupting but he can't hear Stiles tell him that he doesn't feel worthy of Scott's love. Maybe none of them are worthy, but if anyone were to be close, it would be Stiles. "Just don't."

"I don't want him to miss me," Stiles says finally. "Because I don't think I could make it without him. I'm scared for him, Isaac."

At first Isaac can just stare at him. At last everything is crystal clear yet somehow that's even worse. Stiles is dying but he's not afraid for himself. He's afraid for Scott.

"My dad will be okay," Stiles goes on to say. "I know he will. He's really strong and he has Melissa." A wistful look comes into his eyes but he chases it away with a shake of his head. "And Lydia and Allison and-"

"What about me?" Isaac says it without meaning to and then snaps his mouth shut, staring at Stiles with wide eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was add to Stiles' burden. Ducking his head he mumbles, "I'll miss you too, you know. Why. . . why do I have to be the strong one?"

He feels Stiles' head rest lightly on his shoulder and turns so he can wrap his arm around his friend, trying to tell himself that it's just his imagination that he feels thinner and more fragile. "Because you can be," he hears Stiles say. "I don't think Scott can."

He's right. They always look to Scott to be the strong one and hold everyone together. This time they both know that it will be impossible. Dying doesn't scare Stiles. Not being there for Scott does. Isaac nods, his face tickled by Stiles' hair. He squeezes his eyes shut, focusing on the life he feels from hugging the other boy. "I can," he says, the weakness in his voice betraying him. "I can be the one."

"I know you can." Stiles' reply comes without hesitation. It mirrors the unshakable faith that he's always had in Scott and Isaac wonders what he's done to earn this kind of trust. "Thank you, Isaac."

There's so much peace in his voice and the way he relaxes in Isaac's arms proves that a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Isaac can no longer sense sorrow and fear. No more tears. It's almost like he has taken away Stiles' pain, if only temporarily. He just wishes it could be more permanent. He wishes Stiles could be permanent.

"It's enough," Stiles says quietly. "What you're doing is more than enough. I'll be okay now."

Isaac tries to tell himself that Stiles is being okay is all he needs. But he's far too selfish for that.

**If you guys have any suggestions for something I could add to turn this into the series I mentioned before, just let me know. I'm always open to ideas. Thank you for reading!**


End file.
